


Ahead and After

by ladygrange



Category: Jimmy Page - Fandom, Led Zeppelin, classic rock - Fandom
Genre: Drunken sex, F/M, Jimmy Page - Freeform, Led Zeppelin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-21 21:09:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16584239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladygrange/pseuds/ladygrange





	Ahead and After

Bron-yr-aur’s ancient door clatters shut, followed by stifled laughter, their voices blending down the hallway. The first is boyish and high, the second, a quick squeak that trails to her ears and causes a smile. But she carries on with her task in the cozy space between the kitchen table and the wood stove. A fire burns in the grate, and a couple of oil lamps flame on the table. Steps diverge from the entrance, one makes a creaking way upstairs and the other pads unsteadily towards her, his steps louder than usual. Still, she doesn’t turn, even when his hands close around her waist.

“What are you doing up this late?” Jimmy asks, a bit slurred.

She angles her neck to the side and he settles his chin on her shoulder, leaning his weight into her body. 

“I had some stuff to take care of,” she replies softly.

Jimmy hums and laces his fingers around her front. “You smell of butter,” he mumbles, nose in her hair, “and lemons.”

“I know.” She grins and stirs the simmering pot on the stove. “They were going to rot soon. I had to use them today.”

He heaves a big sigh against her and nods again. “You should’ve come along, darling. A couple of boys recognized us and asked for a jam. It was quite good. There was Guinness, too.”

Hitting the spoon against the pot’s edge, she goes to set it aside but Jimmy takes it from her, immediately sticking the whole thing in his mouth. She finally turns around in his arms to scan him. He’s in his wellies, the first third muddied, and his black henley with the red trim, an old pair of jeans with their knees worn out sit high on his waist. Clothing she’s taken off countless times, memorized them down to the seams. His color is high from drink and warm weather. She shakes her head, smiles, and takes the spoon back.

“You didn’t eat there?”

He gives her a pouty look and watches her slide the pot away to a cooler spot on the stove. “Chips don’t count, my darling.”

She snickers as his arms return to her waist, his head next to hers. A second later his fingers dip into the mixture and drip along the stovetop. 

“You’re making a mess, Jimmy.”

He takes his bite but becomes distracted in the crease of her neck, nipping tenderly, “Come to bed, Emmaline,” his voice a gentle sear. 

She pushes her hips back playfully and shakes her head. “And leave my butter and lemons?”

Jimmy steals another thumb full from the pot and takes an indecent lick. “It’s already custard, darling.”

“And you’re already a bit sloshed.”

He takes a sloppy lick. “Am not.”

“You know,” she says, stepping aside to hand him the discarded spoon, “if I’m not mistaken, there’s still some bread and cheese from yesterday. You can’t fill up on sweet, even this late.”

“Fair enough, my darling,” Jimmy pauses and offers the spoon to her lips. “But you’re enabling me at this stage.”

She laughs and takes the bite. “Well, that’s just because I love you so much.” 

“I appreciate that.”

He’s dripping the food all over himself, and she rolls her eyes, trying to clean him off with a dishtowel. A goofy smile spreads across his face, his eyes gone squinty. It inspires her to take the spoon away then stand on her toes and kiss around his face, licking at the line of custard near his chin. Jimmy takes a quick breath when she dribbles a little more along his jaw and darts her tongue out. 

“Now who’s making a mess?” 

“Sorry,” she says sheepishly and moves away.

Jimmy draws her back in and kisses her nose. “Don’t be.”

His cheeks are darker from a week without shaving, and she slides her thumb across the growing bristle. His mouth tastes of beer in the kiss, the rich bitter that melts to the back of her throat and mingles with the citrus in the custard. Hands roam down to her back to pull her against him, his mouth searching along her face. It’s the beginning of something she knows, in her rational mind, they shouldn’t do with the cottage’s thin walls and the guests upstairs, but Jimmy continues his exploration of her neck as though encountering untouched territory. She nearly yelps when he sucks a hickey into the skin and promptly swats his arm. 

“We’re going to wake them,” she hisses. 

Jimmy licks an apology over her bruised neck and  meets her eyes. “Then take a walk with me, darling.” 

She looks disbelieving. “You’re in no state for that, Jimmy. And I’m no good with that shotgun Rob likes to cart around.” 

He pecks her nose again then slides his lips lower to whisper in her ear. “You’re already wet, my darling. It would be shame to waste it.” 

In spite of the lingering slur and his slight wobble, or, she debates, maybe because of those things, she turns her mouth to press a kiss to the fragile skin of his inner arm before Jimmy takes her cheeks. Tongue sliding over his, she lets him back her up to the low window sill. Everything in the cottage seemed adjusted for shorter heights, necessary at the time it was built, and now, as his hands curl under her thighs to sit her down, necessary for their current entanglement. By some miracle, Jimmy works her t-shirt up and paints hot kisses along her breast, his tongue tracing the blue line of a vein in the translucent skin. She knots her fingers in his shirt and he raises his head, too fast, knocking it soundly on the stone overhang. She bites her upper lip, containing the full force of her laughter at his pained expression. 

“Are you laughing at me, darling? Jimmy asks, rubbing his forehead.

She hooks her fingers around his belt loops to pull him back. “Maybe.”

“You’d be in for it,” he says, “if I weren’t a little impaired.”

She hums and presses her mouth to his adam’s apple. “More than a little, Jimmy.”

His reply is lost in her hands unzipping his jeans, seeking what she wants. Jimmy pries her hands away and raises his brows, managing to make her laugh again. He leans in for another kiss with her face steady in his hold, one hand drifting down to return her favor. She breaks the kiss when his hand works over her underwear, an ache blossoming between her legs.

“Lift your hips,” he says, stroking over the fabric. 

She does, but he has more trouble getting them off. With a huff of frustration and an unbalanced crouch near her ankles, Jimmy decides to leave the last leg clothed and returns to stand between her thighs. She braces her palms on his shoulders while he quickly wets his fingers and sinks them inside her, his knuckles grazing a sensitive spot. Her small cry takes them both by surprise and Jimmy stops his teasing to prop his thumb on her chin and tilt her head back.

“None of you usual noisiness, darling,” he says with a teasing smile. “We have company.”

She sticks her tongue out at him and rocks her hips into his fingers. “I know that.”

“Seems like you don’t,” Jimmy counters with a graze against her clit. “Might have to wait until another time.”

“Oh, really?” She reaches out to cup her hand between his legs. “ _ You _ might suffer more than I would.”

He pulls his fingers out completely, much to her frustration, and holds them to her eyes, the evidence clear. 

“I’m not so sure, my darling.”

She quickly grabs his wrist and licks his fingers clean in one fell move, then smiles, satisfied. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Liar.”

“Shut up,” she laughs. “Take those off.”

Jimmy begins undoing his zipper and stripping his legs free. “You’re bossy tonight. It’s cute, my darling.”

Her grin is crushed in the next kiss, her laugh tickling between them. It melts into a bitten lip as he positions himself, their foreheads touching and eyes centered on the taking; he pushes inside with a slow, luscious force. Sweet and full, she buries her face in his shoulder and clutches the solid expanse of his back, his skin not far from the worn cotton, warm and awaiting. Her eyes drift shut and her mouth opens on a sigh. They both freeze when a thump sounds from above, muttered voices muted though the ceiling. Jimmy stills and they exchange an alarmed look.

“Do you think-” 

Her whisper cuts off when a door opens and closes. Her ears are primed, tensed for the sound of steps on the stair. Nothing. A smile spreads across Jimmy’s face.

“False alarm, darling,” he whispers. “Probably just Strider.”

She looks at him, concerned, and he tracks kisses along her jaw.

“Nothing to worry about,” he assures her.

Jimmy moves his mouth to her breasts, nipping the satiny skin. Her nervousness slips away to an ache when he releases her nipple with his teeth, the bite harder than she expected, causing her legs to twitch around him. His rhythm is easy but insistent, his gaze heavy-lidded. Reduced to sighs against his neck, she holds onto him, his hair dense between her fingers, scrunched to the webbing. Jimmy bundles his fingers at her nape to tug her back, wanting to look at her but she resists, clinging to him.

“Let me see,” he says in a low voice.

She falls back into his palm and his thumb skates across her cheek in time to the slow push and pull. His free hand travels to her belly and reaches between them. She shivers in his arms and tumbles into release, gathered up and given to the flow of her muscles clamped tight around him. Inches from her face, illuminated and close, she absorbs the look on his face; his hands turned possessive around her, his mouth open and his eyes almost pained. His breath fractures a second later and turns to a deep sigh. She rubs her palms down the hollow of his lower back and the shallow indent of his spine until their breathing returns to normal. Jimmy eases out of her body then mutters an expletive; there’s light enough for both of them to catch his semen sliding along her thighs. He groans but it’s interrupted by the tell-tale sound of a dog’s feet clicking lazily across stone. Strider gives them an quick glance and promptly turns around. She waits a beat until Jimmy breaks the silence.

“He’s lived with Robert too long.”

She snickers, reaching down for her jeans. “I’m shocked they didn’t wake up. How much did you two have?”

“Not that much.” Jimmy helps her along and pulls her off the sill. “Although the tab seemed awfully high...”

She hums and smoothes out his shirt. “Not surprising.”

He kisses her lightly as she moves past him to the stove. “Now will you come to bed?”

“Yes,” she says, putting the sugar away. “Give me a second, and remember that patience is a virtue.”

“So is going to bed,” he replies dryly.

“I thought you’d be tired out,” she says and stashes the cornstarch. “I bet you’ll be snoring in five minutes.”

He moves to stand behind her, meeting her eyes when she turns around. 

“I’ll take you up on that,” he says, eyes smiling, his fly undone, “and darling, bring the custard.”


End file.
